


Logan

by xNinjaGurl50



Category: Granny (Video Game), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (ew) - Freeform, Angst, Angst with no happy ending, Based off a video game, Bat (As in a weapon), Blindness, Chapter two Trigger Warnings, Cuts, Food mention, Giant Spiders, Gore, Hospitalization, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kidnapping, Logan has a bat, Loss of blood, Maybe an alternate ending to this?, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Near Vomiting, Passing Out, Patton is afraid, Roman Sanders (implied), Rotting food that is, Somewhat, Spiders, Stitching wounds, Villain Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders (implied), Vomiting, at least the first chapter, bear traps, dead rats, falling, gagging, injuries, poor Patton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-12 17:34:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xNinjaGurl50/pseuds/xNinjaGurl50
Summary: Patton's car seems to have popped a tire (most likely not an accident). While exploring to woods towards a house in the distance to ask for help, a man knocks him out. He wakes up in the house he was on his way to. Now he has to figure out how to escape, avoiding the crazed man that brought him there in the first place to get back to his fam.(Based on the horror game "Granny")





	1. Door Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Was watching Marki moo play Granny for the millionth time, so I decided to make a fic out of it. I kinda liked the theory he had that Granny was blind, and I thought it would be PERFECT if it was Logan, with the glasses and all. 
> 
> Y'all best enjoy! I literally downloaded the mobile to get the exact layout of the house for this... I actually put a lot more dedication into this whole thing than I usually would. I flippen played multiple times to get the rhythm of the game, wrote all of the things you need to get each of the endings, then had to write how Patton got each item... phew.
> 
> That being said, this IS based on the MOBILE. I don't know if the PC version was updated, but the mobile had some more elements than Markiplier's playthrough.
> 
> Don't mind mistakes! It's late, and I don't feel like reading through this monster to edit it.
> 
> Anyways, I've talked for too long, enjoy!

Patton rubbed his eyes blearily, attempting to keep awake in the swirling darkness around him. The car hummed softly as it traveled down the dirt road. The trees zipped past, while the shadows of other trees behind them looked ghastly against the moonlit sky, untouched by the headlights. He blinked multiple times, slapping himself lightly as he continued on down the road. It was barren. No cars in front, no cars in the back. The seemingly endless forest stretched on, making a shiver go down his spine. He never did like being alone in the dark, especially in a desolate place like this. Patton’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he kept his sight forward. He just had to get to the next town, and he would be fine. He could find an inn, sleep for the night, then he would be at Virgil's by noon. He stared in front, trying to ignore the images his mind created in the darkness to trick him. Everything was fine… His eyes almost shut at the particularly real figure stood on the sidelines of the forest.

He yelped as his car jumped, stuttering as it started to swerve. Patton instantly pushed on the brakes, trying to slow down as steady as possible. When the car lurched to a stop, he sighed in relief, placing his forehead in between his hands on the steering wheel. Of course, this had to happen. He hesitantly got out, making sure not to stare too long into the forest. He looked at his car, looking for the problem. He soon found it… About ten nails were punctured in the front right tire. Patton looked at it quizzically. There was no way that could be an accident. There were too many for it not to be placed. He didn’t think about it much, just groaning at the inconvenience. It didn’t help that he had an unnatural chill at the forest around him.

He took his cardigan off his shoulders, quickly putting it on as he shivered. He looked around him reluctantly, trying to decide what he should do. Should he stay in his car for the night and wait for someone to find him? Should he try calling someone? He spotted what looked like a driveway, leading into the forest. Lights in the distance twinkle at him. He sighs, feeling quite disturbed by this whole event. He should have brought Roman. He could cheer Patton up. He could be brave enough for the forest. If only Virgil was with him. He would be smart. He’d have convinced Patton to stay at the last town for the night. Patton pulled his phone out. Only a little service. That won’t do. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, before grabbing his bag from the passenger seat. He’d have to get help from that house. He clicked on his flashlight, shining it towards the house (courtesy of Virgil reminding him a million times to back an extra bag, bless his soul.)

He tried his best to ignore his nerves that increased as he got closer. His feet crunched the leaves of the autumn night. He passed birch trees as he sees the door in the distance, a dim flickering light illuminating it. _They can help me, at least for the night_ … Patton thought, hearing a sound on his left. It sounded like a fox laughing. He gave a quick glance, walking faster. He looked to his left, straining his eyes to see through the darkness in between birch. He arrived next to a tree, placing a hand against it, huffing a bit. He pushed off walking a few steps before stopping completely. He stands there for a few seconds, no idea as to why he stopped. A crack of a twig snapping on his right. His head instantly whips towards the sound, head moving back and forth to discern the sound. Patton’s back stiffens, and he gets the instinct to look behind. He shakingly turns, screaming at the man behind him. He is tall, taller than Patton. He is muscular with a black polo and a blue striped tie. His face is pale, his blazing electric blue eyes pin Patton to the spot. His lips are chapped, pressed into a straight line. His straight face turned into something very dangerous, his smile turning sharp. Patton’s brain screamed for him to leave. He never got a chance though, as the man held up a bat, winking at Patton, then swinging. Everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

Patton groaned, blinking up at the ceiling. His head banged against his skull, causing Patton to grab at it. He sat up on a very uncomfortable bed, looking around. His breath escaped him as everything came rushing back. He winced at the pressure he accidentally applied to his head, before swinging his legs off the bed. He looked around the room, the wallpaper basically nonexistent, showing the wood underneath. He saw his flashlight on the bedstand, quickly gripping it with both hands. He stands up, walking around a bit. He placed a hand on the table, feeling the dust cling to his skin. He wiped at it, feeling a groove in it. He used his hand to wipe away the dust, revealing words carved into the wood in shaky handwriting

 

_FIVE DAYS_

 

Patton shivered, looking away from it. It looked like he had five days here, till something happened. He didn’t really want to find out what. He walks silently across the floor, reaching the large door. His hand shakily held onto the doorknob, wincing at the creak as he attempted to turn it. It didn’t budge. He huffed. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. He opened the drawers as quietly as possible, cringing at the slight creak. He gasped, stumbling back a step. In the left drawer, appeared to be blood, smeared in the form of frantic letters.

_Leave_

_this_

_House_

A shudder went down his spine. He needed to get out. Now. He turned around quickly, knocking into the table. It rocked back and forth, before the black and white vase that stood on top of it tumbled off, shattering on the floor. Patton, strangely, didn’t freeze. Instead, he sprung into action. He took off his shoes, hearing the creak that they created, throwing them under the bed. He left his socks, knowing they would cancel most of the noise his feet made. His heartbeat increased at the sound of creaky footsteps downstairs. They got closer. Closer. He got to the ground as quickly as possible, looking through the tiny crack underneath the door. He couldn’t see much from the angle, but he could see he was on the second floor. The rail stopped, going down to the first floor. The heavy footsteps got closer, creaking on the wood of the stairs. Patton had to hold in a yelp as he saw the eyes from his captor. The same electric blue eyes he stared into before passing out. He thanked whatever deity existed that it was too dark to see his eyes. He got up as fast as he could, opening and closing the door of a cabinet in the room.

There was just enough space for him to fit, the slits in the locker just enough to see into. He startled as the swung open, hitting hard against the wall, causing the painting to fall down. He grumbled, making incomprehensible noises as he put it back up. He mumbled scientific terms and just plain gibberish. It somehow made everything so much more frightening. He broke out in a cold sweat at noticing his flashlight. It was still on. He didn’t dare move to turn it off or move the beam at all. He knew the click or the movement could give him away. The light shining out of the locker would also be a giveaway. He knew that every survivor of any horror movie was screaming at him for his mistake. Even with his mistake plainly shown to his kidnapper, he didn’t seem to notice. He swung his bat loosely as he approached the table laid across the ground. The vase pieces ring slightly at the movement of the floorboards of this dilapidated house. Patton watched with bated breath as the man kneeled. Patton noticed he did it with much difficulty as if his joints were rusted pieces of metal that refused to move. He fixed the table, then without care, picked up the glass of the vase. Patton felt his heartbeat stutter at how nonchalantly he did it. He could see the glass dig and cut into his hands, yet his face remained impassive. As if he didn’t feel it. Once everything was back (somewhat) to what it used to be. He turned rapidly, looking around the room. Patton couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it! He couldn’t see him. Now that Patton looked closely, he could see those blue eyes glazed as if obscured. For some odd reason, he couldn’t see the light.

“ _W **h** e  _ r _e_ **a** _r_ e y _o_ **_u_ ** **~** _~_ ” His mock happy voice croaked out of the chapped bleeding lips. He looked around, groaning slightly. Patton held his breath, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Several frigid seconds passed, before the man stumbled back downstairs, not bothering to close the door behind him. Patton heaved out a sigh of relief. He carefully opened the locker, his eyes peeled at the stairs where he had descended. He crept slowly, watching the man enter a room to the right on the first floor. Patton smiled to himself, seeing what seemed like the front door. It quickly dropped at the sight of many different kinds of locks adorned it. There were two padlocks, one needing a key, another one needing a code, what seemed to be a wire needing cut, and a hammer to pull off the board blocking his way. Not to mention, he doubted that the man simply left the door unlocked after setting up all those locks. He’d need the front door key. Without much more thought, Patton ducked into the room to the right, which seemed to be a bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door, far too scared of the noise to disturb anything. He had to find that stuff quick, without getting caught by the man, and without making any noise. That was a bit daunting to Patton, but he had to. He had to get to back to his fam. To his best friend. He couldn’t leave them.

 

* * *

 

Patton had been through most of the second floor and the first. All without even getting close to the man, much to his surprise. He felt a slight tinge of pride at his accomplishment, but he knew he couldn’t let that distract him. Pride came before the fall. He had to keep going. Creeping down the stairs of the basement as he heard the now familiar creaks on the second floor, he observed the mess of the basement. He could see a bench that held part of a picture, and what seemed to be a red gear. Patton made sure to pocket it in his right cardigan pocket, not taking any chances. Barrels and crates littered the edges, and A safe was against the wall. His eyes narrowed at the slight light inching out from behind some boxes stacked up next to the wall. Hearing the stairs creak, footsteps and the drag of the bat against the floor banging on the steps as the man made his way to the first floor, Patton panicked. He padded over to it, getting on his knees and carefully started to push the boxes to the side. Tears of fear welled in his eyes as the footsteps got closer to the basement door. He stopped every second or so, as the boxes wobbled too much. Once it was opened enough, Patton squeezed his body through the hole in the wall, quickly starting to pull the boxes back into place. He ripped his hands away as the man looked into the basement. Patton scrambled towards the wall, hands covering his mouth as he stared at the wall opposite of him, not daring to look anywhere close to the boxes.

His senses narrowed to his hearing, as the stomping got closer. He waited as it stopped, way too close to the boxes for comfort. Patton’s mind reeled, not having had a good look at how far he was able to drag the boxes back to their original position. He let out a tiny breath as the footsteps went away. Patton finally got the courage to peek out of the hole, happy to discover the boxes were almost perfectly to the place they were at first, if not even more closed. Even so, he doubted the man could kneel and crawl through the hole even if he wanted. His joints seemed to protest even walking, though he was fast at times. Patton sighed, happy to have a safe space that couldn’t be easily accessed like the boxes or the lockers. He finally got a good look at the room he was in, seeing it completely covered in what seemed to be dirt. It was obviously dug out, probably by the man himself after buying the house. A little table sat in the corner, right next to another crawl space, dark and foreboding. Patton avoided looking down it, reaching out for a piece of yellow ripped paper on it. The handwriting seemed scrawled, indicating that they were in a hurry. Not that Patton blamed them. Luckily for Patton, the man hadn’t seen a trace of him this entire time. He couldn’t imagine what the man would do if he knew Patton was around, although he seemed to already suspect with how he was patrolling the place. Patton read it carefully, just noticing the specks of blood splattered on it, causing him to shiver.

 

_This is my fifth day in this house. He chases me wherever I go. I’m quite injured and my body hurts. The only thing I remember before I woke up in this house is that I was driving when my car suddenly broke down. I went out to see what the problem was when someone suddenly hit me in the head. I have managed to open a pair of locks on the front door but that’s all. Why does he do this? I hope no one will experience the same thing as I do. If I do not survive this and if someone finds this message, I have noticed that she sometimes hides things inside fruits._

_~Remy Stars_

 

Patton didn’t like the thought of others being here. This had happened most likely many times. That means no one has escaped. No one went to get the police to lock this demented man up. He placed the paper back down, not daring to take it just in case… in case he didn’t make it. He pushed the thoughts aside, crawling through the little hole that leads to somewhere new. He shivered at the sudden breeze that floated through it, pulling his cardigan closer. He saw the dirt slant upwards, a loose wood pallet covering it. He gingerly pushed it to the side, his ears perking up at the sound of crickets. He was outside. _HE WAS OUTSIDE!_ He barely contained tears of joys, attempting to calm himself. He couldn’t falter now. He had to keep calm. He looked around, seeing he had arrived into a shed. He carefully climbed up, dusting his hands of the dirt. There was a bench next to the wall, a lamp flickering above it. It was a schematic… of a guillotine. Patton gripped onto the bench with both hands, turning completely white and shook with the force he held on.

That is what would happen in five days if he was found. He would be killed. He took a deep breath. _Calm down. He probably doesn’t have one… simply planning. I mean, how could he? Who would allow him to buy such a thing!_ He chuckled quietly to himself, somewhat comforted by the sound. The only sound he allowed himself to have this entire night. He continued looking around, seeing through a cracked window to the outside. He could see the door that leads back into the house. As if he would ever go back in there. At least he could see if the man was coming out of it. He looked to the shelf on the wall, seeing an empty, tin can, and a watermelon beside it. _Fruit!_ Patton smiled, though decided not to take it until he found a good way to open it. He didn’t want to make any sound trying to smash it open, or making a mess. He opened the shed door after checking one more time out the broken window. His smile dropped quickly. A huge 7’ high, with barbed wire, tilted inwards, preventing any forms of escape. He was still trapped. His frown turned into gagging at the sight of the guillotine.

It sat in the middle of the yard, fully prepared to drop it’s blade. It was covered in dried blood, on and around it. Patton couldn’t even see the silver of the blade. The grass near the guillotine was dead, the smell of iron filling his nose. He gagged again, feeling the vomit crawl up his throat. The acid burnt it’s way up, crawling it’s way up. Patton placed both hands on his throat, forcing it back down. No messes. He couldn’t risk it. He gasped a few breaths, making sure his stomach stayed down. He rubbed his throat, the burning still searing his throat. He hated puking. He looked around the rest of the yard. It was quite small, a slightly opened crate near the corner, a playhouse right next to it. A well stood in the corner, just in front of the shed. He could see an open window back into the house, knowing that was his other way in.

He wasn’t out quite yet, but he would be. He _had_ to be. He picked up the melon, bringing it over to the guillotine. He carefully placed it in the hole, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand, practically shoving the smell away. He pulled the lever, stepping back few steps. At least it didn’t make a mess, as everything else was red. He grimly picked up both halves, finding a gold key. It must be the safe key for the basement safe he saw earlier. He smiled despite himself. This being his first object he’d found that could help him out of there. His eyes widened as the handle of the locked door jingled, hearing the mumbles through the open window. The man was coming out. Thankfully for Patton, he had to unlock it. He could hear the key scrape against the metal and wood, trying to find it’s way into the keyhole. Patton grabbed both halves before practically jumping into the box, cursing in his head as the lid got stuck an inch from closing. He held his breath for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He watched diligently as the man stumbled. His head sprang up, his speech increasing in volume as a bell rang. Patton breathed a sigh, glad he hadn’t tripped it in his panic.

He had seen a similar trap near the front door, being careful not to ring it. The man touched the guillotine, smiling to himself. His expression seemed reminiscent. He was enjoying the memories of all he’d killed. Patton felt the vomit coming back up but held it back once again. The man’s touch lingered, before going back inside, locking the door behind him. Patton sighed, jumping out of the box. He needed to go to that safe. He carefully made sure to replace everything back in its original place, too afraid that he would increase his search if he saw things out of place.

He crawled back out of the hole to the basement with nary a problem. He still kept an ear out as he crouched in front of the safe. He was overjoyed that all it gave was a silent click as he turned it. He carefully swung it open, finding the cutting pliers. _Just what I need!_ He smiled to himself, taking it quickly, running over to the iron box. He knew from the label that it was a security measure, linked up to the door. He remembered the two red lights on the door frame, one wire on the door. This meant the other one was disabled. He was one step closer. He smiled again.

 

* * *

 

Patton had made his way through the window from the outside, happy to hear the footsteps two floors above. He had noticed that there were more stairs leading upwards, meaning the psychopath was far away from him. He had found what looked like the living room, which was connected to the dining room where the open window resided. He noticed what looked like a key resting on the table the TV was placed on. He snatched it up, shining his flashlight to identify the tiny key. As he suspected, it was the playhouse key. He didn’t know why it had to have its own key, but it meant that something important was in there. He climbed back out of the window, landing on more pallets. After the lock dropped, he opened it slowly. It was quite small inside, Patton barely able to squeeze in. It was empty, besides the far wall. A special mechanism was engraved there, a gear already placed in it. It looked like it was missing a part. Patton quickly dug into his pocket, having totally forgotten the gear he picked up. He slotted it inside, withdrawing his hand as they started to spin. The little metal cover moved, revealing a tiny hole that held what looked like a car key. He took ahold of it, confused. He hadn’t seen a garage this whole time. Unless… Patton had remembered that the man walked downstairs further after he hid in the hole. That must be where it was.

 

* * *

 

He quickly closed the locker, totally new to this level. He couldn’t see much, nor had he processed much as he ran down there. The man was close, way too close for comfort. Said man made his way to this level, his head looking around even more erratically than normal. His glazed eyes passed over everything. Patton now took the time to see all that he could through the slit. He saw the car. A car! It was rusted, but it could be his escape. His focus jolted right back to the man as he opened a door. From the look of it, it seemed to be a sauna. What it was doing there, he had no idea. The switch was on the outside of the room, resting near the door. He walked in, looking around before leaving. As he closed the door, Patton grinned. On the outside, was a wood bar. On the other side of the door, parallel to it was a metal holder. It was meant to block the door from the inside. A plan formulated. He would attempt to slowly open the door, but on his last stretch he would trick the man in there, and lock him in. That should give him enough time to unlock the door, and bolt. He didn’t know where he would go, but he had to run. The man slumped back up the stairs, the bat bouncing with his steps. He exited carefully, going to the car. He was slightly discouraged at the garage door being closed by yet another padlock. Never the less, he knew he could smash his way through if he needed to.

With a strange feeling settling in his gut, Patton decided to open the hood. Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes, seeing it mostly empty. No engine, or battery. Most likely empty on gas. He sighed, wiping away the tears. He was about to throw the key in frustration, barely containing his rage. He held onto it tightly, going to the trunk. As he suspected, it was locked. Using the key, he opened it. Inside, was the hammer. He gave a shaky breath. He was one step closer. He placed the key in the padded trunk, taking ahold of the hammer and placing it in his belt loop, along with the pliers.

 

* * *

 

Patton in panic, barely catching the painting that he bumped into. He was on the second floor in a spare bedroom. He staggered as his head pounded, nearly forgetting his minor head injury. He sighed in relief, catching it soundly in his hands. He perked up, seeing the wall have a little compartment inside. A black switch leaned to the left. Patton carefully reached a hand, flipping it. He quickly placed the painting back up as the bookshelf in the corner opened. He quickly slid underneath the bed at the footsteps, slightly faster than normal. He knew now. The man stumbled in, growling slightly. Patton had to hold his mouth to keep from yelping. He shook slightly at the sound of the man swinging his bat, hitting the chair over, the dresser making a thud, and the walls echoing. Just as fast as he arrived, he left through the door. Patton didn’t dare to move for a couple of minutes, before sliding out from under it. The man didn’t seem to notice the open door. He quietly crept towards the bookshelf, looking inside. It was a dark room, four pictures posted on the walls. In the middle was a pedestal, in which it looked like a book could fit. A shiny glare caught his attention, a small remote control. He gave a tiny smile, unsure if he could truly smile ever again after all he’d been through so far. He had remembered the little cupboard under the stairs had a lock on the top, that was far more high tech than most of the house. This was probably for that. He made his way silently, avoiding the string and bell. Watching carefully, he raised the remote control towards the device. It gave a soft beep, before turning green. He carefully opened it, looking around quickly, time being of the essence. He saw a single key. It was the padlock key. Patton felt a full giddiness rise inside him. He was getting closer.

 

* * *

 

He had made himself down to the garage level another time, remembering the garage door held in place by a padlock. This could be it. If he could get it open, he could make a run for it. He clicked it open, placing it on the shelves on the sides of the garage. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised the door up. As it clicked all the way open, his whole heart dropped.  Instead of the open space of freedom, what was in front of him was a wall. A stone wall. He hit his bare fist on it, gritting his teeth as tears burned in his eyes. He hit multiple times, too angry to be bothered with anything. Too angry to feel the dull pain spiking through his hand. Too angry to notice the footsteps. It wasn’t until too late that he noticed.

“ _I_ f   o _ **u** n     **d**        **y** o   u~~_” He felt a pain that felt close to his skull breaking before darkness overtook him.

 

* * *

 

Patton groaned, grabbing onto his head. It hurt worse than the first time he got hit. He sat up quickly, checking himself. It seemed as nothing had changed, the tools he had collected still in their same spots. He must have been too blind to notice the bottoms of the tools poking out under his shirt and cardigan. He rubbed his head, quickly getting back to work. 4 days. He had four more days. He could do this.

 

* * *

 

This was the first time he had made it to the third floor. He had avoided it until now, too preoccupied with avoiding the man and opening different things. He jumped slightly at the mannequin. It was simple, a block body and block head with no details at all, yet the mere resemblance of a human set him on edge. A box was in the corner, thankfully, for him to hide in. There were about four different paths. The one to the left was a small metal door that was blocking a hole in the wall. The farthest one was a metal door, locked by a strange looking key, that required a disk with four protruding metal rectangles. The one next to it was a bunch of wood planks, set into place by wood. The last one was open, with no door at all. Inside, he could see a door that was lead into the room with the planks. There was a metal cage, with a spinning fan. He saw something inside the fan, along with a wire. The fan was spinning quite fast, too fast to stuck a hand in. For some strange reason, he was afraid to enter. He grabbed his hammer, carefully removing the nails from the planks. He’d rather go that way. The room held a desk and a child’s crib. He shivered, making his way towards the door. It was locked. Huffing, he went the other way, steeling himself. Wrong choice. As soon as his foot made contact with the floor beneath the doorframe, it cracked. Before Patton could react, the wood shattered under his weight. He gave out a scream, the first real sound in this house. He hit the ground with a thud, hitting his head once again. Black spots appeared in his vision, his whole body aching from the fall and the tiny splinters digging into his skin. The last thing he saw was the man, kneeling close to his face.

“ _I_    c _ **a** n_      _s e **e**_       **y** o  _u_ ~ **~** ”

 

* * *

 

Patton was rigorous in his movements after that. He had one day. One day. He had been caught two more times, his brain fuzzy from all the damage. He had tripped one of the bells, and he wasn’t fast enough. He had a limp from the fall, causing him to be slower. The skull breaking pain in his head made it difficult to think, or to focus. He forced himself to. He had to. He had to get to Virgil. He would have been with him three days ago. He was probably worried, as he always was. They were most likely looking for him. He doubted they’d find him unless he escaped from the house, at least. He had ended up finding the master key for the front door in a book. It wouldn’t open until he placed it on the pedestal in the secret room. He didn’t know how he figured it out, but he did. He had everything he needed, except for one. The padlock code. He was confused about how to find it. He was alarmed at the idea of having to get it from the man, but for now, he assumed it was on a paper somewhere. He had returned to the room with the crib, finally looking through the drawers of the desk.

He cursed himself inside his head for being careless the first time. He pulled out a circular metal, that had four metal prongs. _The door!_ He quickly pushed it in, bouncing on his toes as it opened. He was so close. He could practically taste his freedom. He quietly tiptoed up the steps, looking around. It was fairly empty, barrels close to the stairs, a table resting against the railing. In the far left corner was a plate, splattered with red. In the far right corner held a cabinet. Patton was about to rush to it, before stopping in his tracks at the hissing. Behind the railing, was a desk. Under it, a spider crawled out. It was the biggest thing he’d ever seen, as big as a dinner plate. He barely held in a scream, rushing behind the barrels. The spider hissed, returning back to its hideout. Patton took a few calming breaths. He looked back at the plate, then at the cabinet. He had to find something to feed it to distract it. He grimaced as he made his way back downstairs.

His nose wrinkled up at the rancid steak in from of him. He had just checked the fridge, which obviously broke years ago. _How did this guy eat?_ He thought, carefully picking up the meat. He didn’t like the squishy feel or the liquid dripping from his hand. He made his way as fast as possible, partly due to the liquid, and also due to the man reaching the first floor from the basement. He placed the meat down as soon as possible, scrambling out of the way as the spider rushed out. He barely dodged it, not wasting any time as he flung open the cabinet, still subconsciously mindful of the sound. The code. This time he allowed his overjoyed tears to flow. The code was on a small piece of paper, reading: 1041. He didn’t bother wiping his cheeks as he rushed down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

His plan was about to be enacted. He sat in the garage, secure in the locker. He took a couple of breaths, stealing himself from what he had to do. He couldn’t fail. This was his last day. Failure was not an option, He heard the footsteps upstairs. Go time. He flipped the switch to the sauna, before ducking back into the locker. The machine made noise as it turned on, steam rolling out of the door. The stomps got louder, faster as the man growled. His bat was poised to hit as he flung open the door. Patton wasted no time in thinking or dwelling on his fear. He shoved the door close, pushing the man onto the bench. He quickly rammed the wood board closed just as the man recovered and pushed at the door. Patton’s blood turned icy at being face to face with his kidnapper, his smirk unnatural. Patton didn’t stay much longer. He sprinted up the stairs, three at a time. He was huffing by the time that he reached the front door. He forced his hands to steady, the sound of the man bashing the door downstairs, screeching. Patton quickly cut the wire, pulled the nails, unlocked the padlock, and entered the code. His heartbeat increased at every sound of those footsteps. He turned the master key frantically, ripping the door open. The cold breeze wafter over him, begging him to run to his freedom. He made his way towards the little stairs of the porch when the bat made contact with his legs. He screamed as he crumpled, tears sliding down his cheeks. One of his legs was surely broken, most likely the one he had been limping. Frigid hands grabbed his ankles, squeezing tight enough to cause bruises. Patton screamed as he was pulled backward. He desperately clawed at the wood floor, not caring as his fingers started to bleed.

“ _G_ a      _ **me**          o      **v** e   _ **r** _~ **~**_ ”

Patton screamed one last time as the door swung closed. Patton was never seen again.


	2. Car Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending to the first chapter. Patton instead finds a rusted car missing some parts. He decides that it is his best option to fix it up and drive the hell out of there. Will he succeed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH. MY. GOODNESS. It has literally been a month since I published the very first chapter, and must I say... this was a rollercoaster. It may be my best work yet! I am extremely proud, and happy to end it once and for all.
> 
> Trigger warnings are posted up top, but I may have missed some.
> 
> This is the same exact story, but a different twist. Everything in the * * * are the parts taken from the first chapter.
> 
> Enjoy a month's worth of hard work, and sporadic inspiration, meaning it is late, and there is no way I am going to be able to edit this literal 28 paged fanfic.

*     *     *

 

He tried his best to ignore his nerves that increased as he got closer. His feet crunched the leaves of the autumn night. He passed birch trees as he sees the door in the distance, a dim flickering light illuminating it.  _They can help me, at least for the night_ … Patton thought, hearing a sound on his left. It sounded like a fox laughing. He gave a quick glance, walking faster. He looked to his left, straining his eyes to see through the darkness in between birch. He arrived next to a tree, placing a hand against it, huffing a bit. He pushed off walking a few steps before stopping completely. He stands there for a few seconds, no idea as to why he stopped. A crack of a twig snapping on his right. His head instantly whips towards the sound, head moving back and forth to discern the sound. Patton’s back stiffens, and he gets the instinct to look behind. He shakingly turns, screaming at the man behind him. He is tall, taller than Patton. He is muscular with a black polo and a blue striped tie. His face is pale, his blazing electric blue eyes pin Patton to the spot. His lips are chapped, pressed into a straight line. His straight face turned into something very dangerous, his smile turning sharp. Patton’s brain screamed for him to leave. He never got a chance though, as the man held up a bat, winking at Patton, then swinging. Everything went dark.

* * *

 

 

Patton groaned, blinking up at the ceiling. His head banged against his skull, causing Patton to grab at it. He sat up on a very uncomfortable bed, looking around. His breath escaped him as everything came rushing back. He winced at the pressure he accidentally applied to his head, before swinging his legs off the bed. He looked around the room, the wallpaper basically nonexistent, showing the wood underneath. He saw his flashlight on the bed stand, quickly gripping it with both hands. He stands up, walking around a bit. He placed a hand on the table, feeling the dust cling to his skin. He wiped at it, feeling a groove in it. He used his hand to wipe away the dust, revealing words carved into the wood in shaky handwriting

FIVE DAYS

Patton shivered, looking away from it. It looked like he had five days here, till something happened. He didn’t really want to find out what. He walks silently across the floor, reaching the large door. His hand shakily held onto the doorknob, wincing at the creak as he attempted to turn it. It didn’t budge. He huffed. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. He opened the drawers as quietly as possible, cringing at the slight creak. He gasped, stumbling back a step. In the left drawer, appeared to be blood, smeared in the form of frantic letters.

Leave

  this

              House

A shudder went down his spine. He needed to get out. Now. He turned around quickly, knocking into the table. It rocked back and forth, before the black and white vase that stood on top of it tumbled off, shattering on the floor. Patton, strangely, didn’t freeze. Instead, he sprung into action. He took off his shoes, hearing the creak that they created, throwing them under the bed. He left his socks, knowing they would cancel most of the noise his feet made. His heartbeat increased at the sound of creaky footsteps downstairs. They got closer. Closer. He got to the ground as quickly as possible, looking through the tiny crack underneath the door. He couldn’t see much from the angle, but he could see he was on the second floor. The rail stopped, going down to the first floor. The heavy footsteps got closer, creaking on the wood of the stairs. Patton had to hold in a yelp as he saw the eyes from his captor. The same electric blue eyes he stared into before passing out. He thanked whatever deity existed that it was too dark to see his eyes. He got up as fast as he could, opening and closing the door of a cabinet in the room.

There was just enough space for him to fit, the slits in the locker just enough to see into. He startled as the swung open, hitting hard against the wall, causing the painting to fall down. He grumbled, making incomprehensible noises as he put it back up. He mumbled scientific terms and just plain gibberish. It somehow made everything so much more frightening. He broke out in a cold sweat at noticing his flashlight. It was still on. He didn’t dare move to turn it off or move the beam at all. He knew the click or the movement could give him away. The light shining out of the locker would also be a giveaway. He knew that every survivor of any horror movie was screaming at him for his mistake. Even with his mistake plainly shown to his kidnapper, he didn’t seem to notice. He swung his bat loosely as he approached the table laid across the ground. The vase pieces ring slightly at the movement of the floorboards of this dilapidated house. Patton watched with bated breath as the man kneeled. Patton noticed he did it with much difficulty as if his joints were rusted pieces of metal that refused to move. He fixed the table, then without care, picked up the glass of the vase. Patton felt his heartbeat stutter at how nonchalantly he did it. He could see the glass dig and cut into his hands, yet his face remained impassive. As if he didn’t feel it. Once everything was back (somewhat) to what it used to be. He turned rapidly, looking around the room. Patton couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it! He couldn’t see him. Now that Patton looked closely, he could see those blue eyes glazed as if obscured. For some odd reason, he couldn’t see the light.

“ W  **h** e  r e      **a** r e     y o  **u ~** ~” His mock happy voice croaked out of the chapped bleeding lips. He looked around, groaning slightly. Patton held his breath, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Several frigid seconds passed, before the man stumbled back downstairs, not bothering to close the door behind him. Patton heaved out a sigh of relief. He carefully opened the locker, his eyes peeled at the stairs where he had descended. He crept slowly, watching the man enter a room to the right on the first floor. Patton smiled to himself, seeing what seemed like the front door. It quickly dropped at the sight of many different kinds of locks adorned it. There were two padlocks, one needing a key, another one needing a code, what seemed to be a wire needing cut, and a hammer to pull off the board blocking his way. Not to mention, he doubted that the man simply left the door unlocked after setting up all those locks. He’d need the front door key. Without much more thought, Patton ducked into the room to the right, which seemed to be a bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door, far too scared of the noise to disturb anything. He had to find that stuff quick, without getting caught by the man, and without making any noise. That was a bit daunting to Patton, but he had to. He had to get to back to his fam. To his best friend. He couldn’t leave them.

*     *     *

 

Patton breathed in and out, attempting to calm himself. He would have to bake Virgil so many cookies after this, having to experience what Virgil goes through almost every day. Not to mention how worried he must be right now. His heart ached. He didn’t know how much time had past, but it had been at least a couple hours. He was hiding in a locker in the bathroom that was right next to the room he woke up it. He had stayed there for those hours, too afraid to leave at any time. His mind reeled with thoughts of  _ “What if he came up RIGHT now, and he found me?!” _ Virgil was always worried, hence why he would call every hour or so to check up on Patton. He never thought it overbearing (like Roman did), rather extremely endearing. Which is why he winced when he heard the phone call from downstairs. The man took his phone, which he had found out a couple of minutes after hiding in the locker. He could hear Virgil’s ringtone of “This is Halloween” Play throughout the house. He shrunk in on himself at hearing the man downstairs growl and snarl at the sound but didn’t dare to answer the call. After a couple of rings, it shut off. Then it rang again. Over. And over. Finally, the man had enough, Patton could hear from the click that he’d shut it off. Virgil knows something is wrong. If he could get calls from Virgil, he must have at least some service. If he could get his phone, and he could escape far enough from the house, he could call Virgil and the cops… Patton took some more deep breaths. He had to get out. He listened as closely as possible, hearing the heavy footsteps thud against creaky wood. He held his breath as it got closer to the stairs, and flinched at the metal clank he heard. He didn’t want to know what that was. The footsteps retreated, the thud still being heard through the walls. Then a joyous sound came. The click of a button, and the white noise that came with the TV. the sounds of some show filled the completely quiet house and the loud groan of an old moldy couch attempting to hold weight up. The man was watching TV. This is his chance. He took a deep breath, being as quiet as possible, he opened the locker. He was shaking slightly more than inside the locker, crouching low to the ground. He walked carefully, his bare feet making dull thuds on the tile of the bathroom. 

He shakingly allowed one eye to look out of the door, making sure everything else was hidden. It was empty, everything was the same as his glance from earlier. He sighed, his ears hyper-focussed on any sound. He could hear a small creak from the man getting comfortable. He let out a sigh of relief as he didn’t get up. He had a way to tell if the man was moving from his spot, meaning he was free to do as he pleased. He smiled shakily. He could do this. First, he needed to see which area he had to avoid. He crept down the stairs, being careful not to knock the paintings off the wall. He smiled as he was at the left step. A sharp, biting pain bit into the flesh on his leg. He slapped his hands on his mouth, Muffling his already agonizing scream. His body moved on its own, shaking back and forth as his hands pressed firmly against his mouth. He shakingly looked down, seeing what looked like an old rusty bear trap, it’s jagged edges sank into his skin, the rust mingling with the iron in Patton’s blood. His ears listened desperately for the telltale sign of movement on the couch. After ten long harrowing seconds, no sound came. The loud TV played throughout the house, noise that Patton couldn’t properly process with his terror and torment. 

Once Patton found the strength inside him, his trembling hand latched on one of the edges, slowly attempting to pry it off. He fought a scream, tears burning in his eyes. He let go, taking deep breaths to regain strength. More blood pooled out of the wound. He took his other hand off his mouth, biting his lip. He undid the belt that was secure on his waist. He took a few breaths before folding the belt to make it thicker, shoving it in his mouth.  His breath became raspy between the belt, his hands shaking as they reached down to both edges of the bear trap. He winced once his hands landed on it, slightly pushing it further in. He bit into the belt, positioning his hands, ready to pry. 

With all of his strength, He started pushing both sides. He held in the scream bubbling in his throat, biting harder into the leather. His teeth shook with the force, but Patton couldn’t care less. He was entirely focused on the searing pain in his leg. Blood dripped down his leg, the teeth of the bear trap already covered in it. He grunted softly his grip faltered for a second, the blood making his fingers slip. He didn’t care that the teeth were digging into his fingers a tiny bit, he cared more about the pain dying down slightly when the jaws left his flesh. It took another minute of shaking hands and soft grunts before the jaws clicked open. Patton instantly moved his foot away before even considering letting his fingers relax. Much to his relief, the bear trap stayed open. Patton sighed, a sudden sense of joy flooding his system. It was quickly forgotten as the couch creaked again, his breath stuck in his throat. 

He exhaled as the couch stopped rather quickly. He gripped the banister as he attempted to stand. He yelped softly as the pain shot through his leg. It was still bleeding, although not by much. Still, Patton ought to stop it. He quickly took wobbling steps to the right, into what appeared to be a kitchen. After confirming the room vacant, he went inside. Sitting down next to the table that sat in the middle of the kitchen, he started to take off his cardigan. He shivered at the biting cold of the house, but he needed the fabric to attempt to stop the bleeding, at least until he could find help. He tied the ripped sleeve of his favorite cardigan, tying it securely around his injured leg, silently mourning it. He sighed in relief, feeling a bit better on his feet. He quickly looked in the cupboards, ears still intently listening to the sounds in the other room. 

He almost squealed with joy at the sight of his backpack, shoved in the dark corner of the cupboard. He quickly searched through it, finding everything he’d packed. What Virgil told him to pack a while ago. He told Virgil he wouldn’t need it, but he insisted. Patton was glad he kept it. Inside were a few protein bars, a couple of plastic, store-bought water bottles, a small first aid kit, a wrench, and one of Virgil’s old hoodies. Patton sighed gleefully at the warmth enveloping him. He always loved Virgil’s sweaters, somehow convincing Virgil to give him an old one (it really wasn’t that hard, just the usual puppy dog eyes). Patton stuffed his shredded cardigan inside the bag, before crawling his way to the door on the other side of the room. 

Patton carefully peeked, almost bolting at the sight of the man. He was far away, a long room separating them. He could see the colors flash across the room and his face, the sound a tad too loud for Patton’s liking. The man himself seemed to be asleep on the couch, snores floated from his lips, yet would not be described as anything gentle or peaceful. Even in sleep, the man was terrifying. Patton took a deep breath. Now he knew where to avoid, and now he could make his escape.

* * *

 

 

Patton sighed, groaning when his leg hit the wood pallet. He looked around the backyard, gulping at the sight of what looked like a guillotine. The sound of crickets filled his ears, the smell of iron still lingering in the yard. He pulled the hoodie closer to his body as a crisp breeze blew over him. He avoided the little bell that was next to the guillotine, obviously a trap to alert his captor. He slowly opened the door, wincing at the small shrill shriek it gave. Inside was pretty bare, the table having a gas can and a diagram for the guillotine, lit up by a flickering lamp. On the shelf, was an empty bent tin can, and a spool of white thread, a needle stuck in the open hole. He gave a shaky smile. That was exactly what he was looking for. He gave some jittery breaths before sitting on the table. He threw his backpack off, taking out the first aid. It didn’t have a stitching kit, so he’d have to do with regular thread and a needle. He thanked his nursing education for this one. He had never had to do it on an actual person, or himself even, but he knew the steps. This was going to be tricky.

He used a rag from his cardigan, getting it wet with his water bottle. It was somewhat cold from the environment it was put in, which was chillier than it probably should have been. He wiped off the blood on his leg, wincing at the infinitesimal sharp pain every time his hand pressed too hard. Confident in his work, he grabbed the needle, this time using a stick placed in his mouth. He cursed at the lack of sanitation, but in an emergency like this, he didn’t have time to clean his tools. He just needed to be able to run if he needed, which meant an intact leg. He mentally readied himself, before sticking the needle into the skin. Tears instantly streamed down his face, his whole body screaming at him to retreat, to stop. He pushed through, slowly moving the needle. The pain was almost unbearable, blood slowly falling down his leg like rain on a window. He went in a zig-zag pattern, sewing the skin back together. He had never been disturbed by surgeries or blood, being his profession and all, though seeing his own blood and muscle sent chills down his spine. He couldn’t tell how long it took, but after what felt like an eternity, it was done. His shaky fingers ripped the thread from the needle, taking the rag and cleaning up the blood that spilled during the operation. He gave a breath of relief, that was short lived at the sound of a door handle jiggling. Patton’s head snapped towards the sound, seeing through broken glass to the door. He stumbled as he leaped off the table, shutting the shed door, and shoveling his stuff back in his backpack. Black spots danced in his vision, the blood loss causing him to be drowsy. Without much thought, she shoved the small gas can in the backpack as well, just as the door swung open. There stood his captor, disheveled and stumbling. Patton wasn’t quite sure if it was from sleepiness or his normal jittery movements. Patton quickly dove for the wood pallet resting on the floor. He could see the hole underneath it, faint light drifting towards Patton. He carefully put it back into place as the man entered the shed. Patton froze in place looking up from the dark damp hole he was in at the man’s face. He looked angry, at what, Patton had no idea. The man went up to the table, dragging a finger through the blood on its surface.

He stared at it for many long seconds, before grabbing the bat resting beside the table. Patton cursed himself for not noticing. If he had gotten rid of the thing, maybe he’d have a chance.  _ Stop it, Patton! You  _ **_do_ ** _ have a chance! You will get out of here! _ He watched as the man stumbled back into the yard, a wooden object falling from his grip, making a soft thud on the dead yellow grass. He slammed the door, the lock clicking, and the loud footsteps retreating. After a couple of minutes, just to make sure, Patton moved the pallet. He’d explore the hallway later, he needed to see what the man dropped. He slowly lifted it from the ground. It looked like a crank. Patton’s gaze immediately went to the well. Patton smiled, sticking it into place. He slowly rotated it, After long minutes of creaky rotations, the bucket emerged from the inky darkness. A screwdriver sat at the bottom of the old, wet bucket. He didn’t dwell on why a screwdriver was in a well, as the door started jingling again. Patton quickly disassembled the crank, throwing it across the yard, close to where it was first dropped. He barely got behind the well as the door swung open, clutching the screwdriver to his chest. Patton didn’t dare move, feeling too vulnerable out in the open, his mind screeched at him that he would be seen, that one part of his body would reveal his location. He blocked those thoughts, his ears hypersensitive to any and all sounds.

The man shuffled across the yard, grunting. He heard the sound of the grass crunching underweight, and the wood scrapes against the ground as it was picked up.  _ Please, just leave… _ Patton let tears fall, holding his breath in fear. The stumbling got closer to the well, Patton almost letting out a squeak. His entire body locked up, curling into itself. He desperately wanted to clamp his hands over his mouth, but he knew that would make unwanted noise. His heartbeat pounded in his chest, so loud he swore the man could hear it. A low growl escaped chapped lips the man arrives at the well.

_ I am going to die. I’m sorry Virgil… _ Patton closed his eyes, a tear sliding down his already wet face, following the path of the tears earlier. Frigid seconds passed by, time seemingly froze. Patton waited… and waited for the end to come. To be dragged to that guillotine, and to breath no more. After some more time, a pained grunt came from the man, before he stumbled towards the house once again. The lock clicked, cutting Patton’s taut strings that held him up. His body drained of all energy he had, going limp instantly. He gasped for breath, his lungs burning. He couldn’t stay in one spot. He had to move. His already sluggish mind somehow got him to stand up, hand clutching the edge of the well, the cold damp stone biting into his skin, grounding him. He swayed towards the shed, his eyelids attempting to fall shut. He pushed the pallet away and back into place. He saw the light down the dark hallway, following it as a ship would to a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. He didn’t get a chance to examine the room he was in before he passed out, his hand failing to keep him upright, the dirt rubbing into his skin.

* * *

 

 

Patton woke up drowsily, blinking slowly as everything came back into view. He was in a small dirt room, a board covering a hole near a table. He shook his head as he sat up, leaning his back against the dirt. He rubbed his temples, a splitting headache eating at him. He looked down at his leg, the dried blood coating his pale skin.  _ Blood loss _ he thought blankly. He unzipped his bag carefully, taking the water bottle that still was three fourths full. He took a long sip, feeling the water flow over his tongue. It wasn’t ice cold, yet his overheating body relished in the colder temperature. He sat there for a couple of minutes, not looking at anything in particular, his eyelids slipping close once again.

* * *

 

 

The next time Patton woke up, he felt marginally better. His head wasn’t as fuzzy, his leg wasn’t stinging anymore. He finally got a good look around as he stood up. It was just barely his height, his head mere centimeters from hitting the ceiling. On the table, sat a small ripped yellow paper and a hammer resting upon it. He gasped, seeing specks of blood splattered on it.

 

_ This is my fifth day in this house. He chases me wherever I go. I’m quite injured and my body hurts. The only thing I remember before I woke up in this house is that I was driving when my car suddenly broke down. I went out to see what the problem was when someone suddenly hit me in the head. I have managed to open a pair of locks on the front door but that’s all. Why does he do this? I hope no one will experience the same thing as I do. If I do not survive this and if someone finds this message, I have noticed that he sometimes hides things inside fruits. _

_ ~Remy Stars _

 

Patton let the paper float to the ground as he braced himself on the table, shaking almost violently. He hated this. He just wanted to be at his best friend’s place, bake cookies, and watch Disney in onesies. He had no idea how long he’d been in the house, how long had he been here? He rubbed his head, new determination coursing through him. He was getting out if it was the last thing he did. 

Snatching the hammer and placing it in his bag, he kneeled down at the hole in the wall, pushing the wood board away slightly,  and peered through it. The basement was dark, although the light was filtering through the stairs leading up. Patton almost screamed with happiness at the sight of his phone resting on the table near the stairs. He listened diligently, though no sounds could be heard in the house.  _ Did he leave…? _ Patton crawled as silently as he could, wincing at every tiny squeak. His feet padded at the dirty floor, making sure to avoid the blood stain in the middle of the floor. Patton gagged, looking away quickly. He beamed upon picking up his phone, tears coming to his eyes at the sight. This could be his ticket out of there. He jumped at a squeaky floorboard upstairs, his body automatically in a defensive position, his arm raised as if to block a blow. Another squeak and dust falling from the floorboard directly above Patton. Patton spent no time at all as he dove back to the hole, closing the gap with the crates. He sat there for minutes, yet nothing else happened. He gave a sigh, shaking slightly. He sat up, placing his phone on the ground. He was hesitant to look through the gap, his mind conjuring up images of seeing the man’s face through the gap, staring back at him. He quickly glances, doing what Virgil would do: rip it off like a bandaid. To his glee, no one was there. It didn’t even look as if someone came down, and no more sounds were heard.  _ It must have been the house settling… _ Patton thought to himself, before looking down at his phone. He smiled again, tears sliding down his cheeks. He was almost out of there. He held the button, watching as it lit up. Patton looked at the opening, before stuffing it in the hoodie, waiting for the bright white light to subside.

After a minute or so, he took it out, glad that he set his background as the galaxy. He couldn’t imagine how bright it would be if he had chosen something with light colors.  He swiftly unlocked, before freezing. No service. The once happy tears still sliding down his face turned bitter. Looks like he really did have to find a way out of there. At least far enough for Patton to get service and call for help. Patton took a deep breath, pushing the tears aside. By the look of the date, it had already been a day since he had been taken, which meant Virgil would be panicking, at least more than usual. He would flip out if you were five minutes late, the anxious bean. Patton smiled at thinking about his best friend.  _ Hold on, Virgil... just a little longer. _

* * *

 

 

Patton smiled upon his descent, seeing what looked like a garage. The car looked dented, red and rusty… but it was a car. The garage door was held in place with a padlock, which Patton examined closely. Even if he could get it open, Patton didn’t feel safe simply running away. He would rather have a car to get farther away and faster than the man who’s keeping him captive. He opened the hood of the car, wincing as despair fall on him. It looked practically empty, with parts missing. Patton quickly thanked whatever deity convinced him to help Roman fix up his car as he examined what he’d need. The car was pretty dysfunctional, only having a battery installed, while the engine was missing, along with a spark plug. He’d also need a wrench for the engine as well, and of course, the car keys. Patton quickly leaned into the car, seeing the gas tank was empty. He smirked, pulling out the little gas can he procured in the shed. Placing it on the table for later, he attempted to open the trunk, that wouldn’t budge.  _ Must need the car keys to open it… _ Patton sighed, before cracking his back. With his mental list in line, He gingerly stepped onto the stairs once more.

* * *

 

 

Patton almost giggled at seeing an object in the drawer. Most of the house was empty so far, so to find any object, no matter how small, was refreshing to him. It meant progress. Patton picked it up, examining the smooth metal. It looked like a calculator, which confused Patton. It wasn’t until he flipped the case to see printed at the bottom,

Remote Control Lock

He pondered for a second before a creak was heard. Patton quickly dove under the bed. He curled up in the dark corner underneath it, his pupils dilating as his heartbeat picked up.  _ Sympathetic system. The fight or flight reflexes. _ His brain supplied, his education coming back to him in whispers. He clung to all he’s learn, calming down slightly at the familiarity. It didn’t last long, as his captor had entered the room, shuffling closer to Patton’s hiding spot. He closed his eyes tight, a hand held to his mouth as he waited. His mind practically screamed at him, his heart pounding like an alarm. Nothing happened. Patton slowly opened his eyes, which widened at a creak. The bed above him dipped down, creaking loudly as the springs protested the weight. The man grunted, moving to get in a good position.

Patton was frozen under the mattress, the bed dipped down mere inches from his nose. He counted every second he could, reaching ten minutes. His anticipation grew as he continued to count, waiting to hear any sign of the man sleeping. Around thirteen minutes, Patton heard snore vibrate through the mattress, quite violently.  _ Ten to twenty minutes, the normal time it takes to fall asleep. _ He let out a breath, but his muscles remained stiff. He didn’t know if the man was a light sleeper or not, and definitely not willing to test it out. He slowly shifted out from under the bed, Virgil’s hoodie collecting dust as he slowly scooched his way out. He slowly sat up, his head watching the man. His limbs were stiff, as straight as an arrow.

Patton slowly crept out of the room, huffing in exasperation once he was away from the room. He checked his phone, seeing it to be about 10 PM.  _ Almost two days now… _ Patton sighed, aching to see his best friend. He pulled the hoodie closer to himself, the cold of the house diminishing. Virgil would surely be looking for him… Patton shook his head.  _ Not now. I have to focus on getting out _ . He thought, admonishing himself. With the man asleep, it would be easier to go around. He looked down, noticing the weight in his hand. It still clutched the remote control, his knuckles turning white at the pressure. Patton crept down the stairs, arriving at the front door. It looked like a remote control could be used on one of the many locks and boards on the door. Patton looked around, spotting the closet near. He opened it, ready to receive him if need be. A shaking finger slowly pressed down the button, pointed towards the lock. He heard a click, but from behind him rather than in front. He whipped around, seeing what looked like a closet door set into the stairs. Now that Patton looked, he could see a faint green light at the top of the door, the mechanism unlocked. Patton’s face contorted, a heinous smell coming from the door. 

Patton gulped, padding his way towards it He carefully opened it, looking up at the lock, before seeing inside of the space. Patton staggered backward, gagging as he held his throat, running towards a trashcan in the corner. He spent a good minute vomiting at the sight and smell, dry retching when his stomach was empty. He used a small rag of his cardigan, wiping his mouth and chin, taking a few deep breaths. Taking another scrap, he tied it around his face like a bandana. He knew something in there was important, but he didn’t really want to find it. He knew he had to, though, which strengthened his willpower. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, before turning back around. In the corner of the tiny room, was a dead body. He was thoroughly decayed, meaning he had been there for quite a while. Patton spent no time looking any deeper than that, focusing on a crease in the wall. He stepped over it, looking at a table against the wall. He didn’t have the ability to smile at the stench, quickly grabbing the engine resting on the table, and also another tiny piece of paper with a tiny gear on top of it. He quickly (and quietly) closed the door, making sure to lock the door. A metal bar clanked back into place, blocking the door once again. Patton heaved as he leaned against the wall, one arm supporting his weight. He quickly threw the remote control in the trash, not willing to go in there ever again. After he regained his breath, and his nose was no longer berated, he looked at the note in his hand.

 

_ Emile… I’m so sorry… I can’t do it… goodbye… _

_ ~Remy Stars _

 

The writing was jittery, barely making letters. Blood was splattered on the yellow paper, slightly crumpled up. That was Remy Stars. Patton shivered immensely, hastily descending the stairs while placing the gear and paper in his pants pocket. He sighed, feeling slightly dizzy. He had just about enough of his captor and his old dilapidated house. He quickly placed the engine inside, smiling gently to himself. One step closer.

* * *

 

 

Patton sighed, crawling the rest of the way through the hole,  bending his back backward, hearing the crack of his spine. He sighed in relief, twisting his sides back and forth. He looked around the room, only seeing stairs leading up. The floors were dirt, the walls wood. Patton took a step forward towards the stairs when something shiny caught his sight. Upon closer examination, a little metal panel was screwed into the stairs. Patton smiled, retrieving the screwdriver from his backpack. He smiled as he unscrewed it from the wall, removing the metal carefully, placing it on the ground with a soft thud in the dirt. There was a small compartment, inside was exactly what he was dreading to look for because of its small size. The spark plug.  He quickly wrapped it in a small cloth, safely depositing it in a small pocket on the bag. He patted the pocket for good measure, before standing up. Patton had pep in his step, getting extremely close to leaving the place. He padded up the steps, looking around. It looked exactly like the room he was just in, stairs leading up again, except for a shelf and a door. As carefully as he could, he opened the door, peeking through. Upon seeing it safe, he opened it fully

Inside was an even smaller room, a table shoved in the corner, and a huge hunk of meat hung from the ceiling. Patton plugged his nose, the carrion’s stench invading his nostrils. He quickly looked around the room for anything he would need, seeing what looked like a small key on the table. He snatched it, before closing the door. He let his breath go, gasping for more as the malodor was locked behind the door. Patton examined the key closely. It was far too small to belong to a regular door. On the back of it, tiny words were inscribed. 

Playhouse key

Patton hummed in thought, faintly remembering a playhouse in the backyard. He grinned to himself, feeling happier than he ever had in this godforsaken house. He was going to get out, and soon. He’d get to see his friends again. His best friend, Virgil. It had been three days since he was taken, Patton took some time in the small room that leads to the shed to sleep, placing his phone on vibration to wake him up at 6 AM. He made sure to clean his wound, and smiled when he heard the man leave. He didn’t know how, but when he checked, the door was still blocked about a million ways. He was alone in the house, for now, but that didn’t mean he walked around normally at the solitude. He knew that at any second, the man could come back. He needed to be careful, despite the little freedom he got. Patton pulled himself out of the hole in the shed, groaning as his leg hit the wood. It stung slightly, but Patton pushed the pain away. He had more important things to worry about. He approached the playhouse, crouching down slowly as his leg protested. Sticking the key into the hole, he jiggled with the lock until it clicked open. The playhouse was quite large, enough for his body to fit inside.

He glanced around the small room, slouching so he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. It was empty, except for the far wall. It had yet another puzzle like mechanism, with a gear that was slowly spinning. There was an empty space next to the gear, although had a rod poking out where another gear would fit. Another metal panel sat in the wall, groves on the bottom. Patton startled, remembering the gear in his pocket. He gagged, thinking about where it came from for a second, hastily pushing the thought away. He slowly placed the gear into place, gradually rotating. The rivets carved into the metal caught on the pegs of the gears, slowly opening. Patton stared in shock in what he saw. It was the padlock key. He jumped at the sound of the door jingling, the man unlocking it. Patton dove for the door, bringing it closed as the man entered the yard. Patton sighed softly, exuberant at all the luck he had been given. He knew, though. It could only last so long. His luck would run out sometime. The anxiety of the close call ate at him as the man stumbled through the yard, Patton only able to get glimpses through the window on the playhouse door. The man grunted, swinging around haphazardly as if he was looking for something. Patton realized quickly, that it was most likely  **him** he was looking for. He shivered, pressing himself into the corner towards the wall next to the door, hoping it would hide him from the man. The footsteps grew near, Patton breaking in a cold sweat. The man grunted, too close to Patton’s ear for comfort. Patton heard some movement, then the click of the lock. All color drained out of Patton, his blood turning icy as the man shuffled away, slamming the door. Patton pushed at the door, hearing the clank of the lock preventing entrance. Patton grew panicked, flashes of the body and the note in his head. He was about to be locked in a room with no escape, left to die and rot. Patton frantically pushed at the door, before taking a scoot back. He took deep breaths, closing his eyes. Virgil’s gentle voice floated to him from his memories. 

_ “Breathe…” _

__

* * *

 

 

_ Patton sighed, resting the back of his head on the cabinet,  sitting on the counter of his apartment. Virgil held his hand with a cool cloth, soothing the burn that resided there. _

_ “You really should be careful, Patton. You are the medical student, after all, you know what happens when you attempt to grab a hot pan from the oven.” Virgil chuckled at Patton’s pout. _

_ “I’m just… nervous.” Patton sighed, looking to the side at nothing at all. Virgil cocked an eyebrow, though Patton couldn’t see it. _

_ “You? Being nervous, I thought that was my job!” Virgil laughed, trying to elicit the same from Patton. He wasn’t fully focused though, his mind shrouded in panic. He hadn’t the best of relationship with his sister, something happening long ago, something Patton didn’t even remember. Now, here he was, about to meet her and her boyfriend. He doubted she changed, but his mother had begged him to try to mend their relationships. Patton didn’t feel he could do this alone, inviting Virgil to help him get through it. Patton had made sure to warn Virgil of everything his entitled sister would expect, but he felt it wasn’t enough. Fear and anxiousness consumed him, nervous about what his sister would say. She knows how sensitive Patton can be. She knew what buttons to push, at least, she did. It had been years, but Patton was afraid certain things would bring those feelings of the past, which is what he didn’t want. He feared her targetting Virgil as well, knowing she would try to hit him in any way possible. His mind was encased with his negative spiral.  _

_ Patton startled as something sweet hit his tongue. He blinked owlishly, seeing Virgil scowl playfully, his hands on his hips like an angry parent.  _

_ “Ah, ah!  No negative spiraling! You are not allowed!” Patton looked down, seeing a grape sucker stuck in his mouth. He would have smiled at his best friend’s attentiveness and preparedness if he wasn’t still spiraling. _

_ “B-but! What if it all goes wrong, Virge? What if she hasn’t changed,?what if she is as nasty as before?” Patton’s senses started to focus on itself, his breathing increasing, his hearing focussing on his blood rushing. His vision gained black spots at the lack of air. “What if-” Patton stopped as  Virgil pulled him into a hug. He couldn’t hear or see Virgil all too well, but he could feel his exaggerated breathing. 4, 7, 8. Patton latched onto that, slowly grounding himself to reality. Soon, he could hear Virgil’s whisper near his ear as he rubbed Patton’s back, rocking back and forth slightly. _

_ “Breathe… 1, 2, 3 ,4… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… good, there you go.” _

 

* * *

 

 

Patton gasped, clutching the hoodie near his chest. The world came back into view, the panic slowly fading, draining out of Patton and leaving him with aches, as well as exhaustion. Patton sat back against the wall, taking some more deep breaths. Once he felt well enough, he tackled the issue.

_ So… I am stuck in this playhouse. What can I do to escape…? It is far too small, I don’t have much movement space. That means I can’t try to break the door down, not to mention the noise it would cause.  _

Patton held up the playhouse key, light entering his eyes. He quickly shoved his hand through the window in the door. It was one of those windows in little kid’s drawings, with a cross separating it into fours. Without that space, it was hard to move his arm much with the wood digging into his skin. He clasped the key close to his heart, the quick beats vibrating through it. His hand fumbled on the outside, attempting to find the lock. Using the crease where the door separated from the wall, he followed it down to find the lock. It was barely in his reach, at least the top was. He desperately pressed his shoulder into the wood, itching for the extra inch. After a few times of stumbling, he grasped it. Tears fell down his cheeks as he tilted it upside down, closer to him and easier to handle. He soundly realized he couldn’t fit his other hand through the same hole to reach it. Taking another calming breath as anxiety rose up, snapping its jaws. He slowly retreated his hand, looking through the window to see he balanced it perfectly upside down. Pushing his right hand through, that held the key through the rightmost pane, he tilted so his left arm could reach through the bottom left pane. He winced at the strain on his arms, his face practically becoming apart of the wood. His left hand kept the lock still, his right wiggling the key to fit in. After many attempts to jimmy it open, due to the distance, the click rang like church bells, happy and joyous ringing. Patton swiftly dropped the key, using his right hand to take the lock off. He bit off a sob as the door swung open. 

He knew the experience would for bruises on his arms, but he couldn’t care less. He was free. Gasping for air as he stumbled out of the playhouse, fresh cold air hitting him, contrary to the stuffy dollhouse. Patton didn’t give himself time to rejoice, before crawling into the hole in the shed.

* * *

 

 

His feet pattered on the concrete, rushing towards the garage door. He fumbled slightly in his excitement, pushing the padlock key into it. He squatted down, taking hold of the bar, before painstakingly lifting up. The metal panels grounded together underneath him but otherwise was silent. Patton didn’t notice until he fully lifted the metal, that where he expected to be empty, dark space, was what looked like a wall. Patton rested a hand on it, the heat in his hand retreating as the cold sunk in. It wasn’t something that could be easily pushed over with his own strength. Patton brought back his hand, before pressing his ear to it. He ignored the biting of the cold and knocked on the wall. It made a thud, but much lighter than it would normally on the wall. It was thin. Patton looked back at the car.  _ That would definitely be able to smash through it…  _ Patton smiled, before taking out the sparkplug. He stuffed the rag back in his bag, connecting the spark plug in place. His legs shook with exhaustion from the day’s work. Patton pulled out one of half eaten protein bars, that he’d been taking bits and pieces of every now and again to battle his hunger. He dreamed of a buffet, all the dinner and desserts he could ever wish for. He licked his lips, before taking a small sip of his depleting supply. When placing it back, he gasped at the feel of metal that brushed against his hand. He pulled it out, completely forgetting about the wrench. He smiled, before working on the engine.

 

* * *

 

 

Patton was on the third floor, trying to puzzle out what to do next. It was the fourth day, the man had left once more. Patton knew he had to hurry, as the message echoed in his mind. 

FIVE DAYS

Patton could only imagine what the man would do when the fifth day ended. Perhaps he had no idea Patton was out and about, simply waiting for that fifth day when he would enter the room and become angry at being unable to find him. Patton shivered, not wanting to exact the wrath of his captor on himself. Patton was currently standing close to the entrance of a room, except… he could tell that the floorboards were loose. He could see the outline, how they would fall with any weight applied. He could see what he needed in the room, inaccessible due to the floor. Inside was a metal prison, a camera pointed towards the cell to alert when any motion was detected. There was a small fan, spinning haphazardly, protecting the car keys inside of it. To the side was a wire, that looked to be powering the fan. He’d need someway across, which he figured he could use his hammer to pry the wood nailed into the doorway next to the broken floor. That would most likely work, though he still needed a way to cover the floor up if it fell. The man would certainly know that Patton had been out if he saw the floor collapsed. Patton sighed, deciding to enact his plan, taking the nails out of the wall. He carefully placed the nails to the side for later, squeezing through the gap.

Inside was a small room, with a baby crib in the corner, a desk nearby. There was a door leading to the room he needed to get into, though one attempt at jiggling the doorknob told him it was locked. He quickly looked at the desk, finding wire cutters. He grinned to himself, quickly placing it in his belt loop, feeling as if time was running out until the man came back. He took tentative steps towards the crib, peering inside before screeching. There was a dead rat inside, curled up on itself and as still as a statue. Patton stumbled back, knocking the crib into motion. The dead rat rolled with it, continued far longer after the crib stopped. Patton gagged for the fifth time that week. He’d never gagged this much in such a short time in his entire life. He sighed through his nose as he leaned against the desk. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up as he sat in thought. He had suffered so much these last few days. His entire body ached with phantom pains and exhaustion. He was  _ so _ ready to go home. He was done with this stupid house, the hostile man. The hiding, the crouching. The pain. A thought hit Patton, who smiled. He grabbed the board, crouching down near the cracked floor. He placed it carefully, just barely reaching the other side. He rushed back to the room, his pulse quickening as thoughts of the man coming back any second flew through his mind. He took a few calming breaths, before taking a rag out of his bag. He carefully approached the crib,   the entire time. His mind was shouting at him to abort mission, it was way too gross for him but he forced his way through it. He carefully used the rag as a glove, picking up the tail of it. He looked away, attempting to ignore it, but the fingers holding the tail became hypersensitive, making sure to remind Patton just what was in his hand. He softly breathed “ew” a million times in recession, as he raced towards the broken floor. He crouched down, carefully placing the rat in the middle of the floor. He frowned, hearing the wood creak but not break. He took a few breaths before stepping on the loose plank. He watched his feet, feeling silly balance on a board placed on the floor, but he knew what would happen if the dared to step on that floor. He took small steps, placing his foot tucked right in front of the other. He whined quietly at every creak that the floor made, He was just about at the doorway when his weight caused the floor to snap. He yelped, clinging to the doorframe for dear life. He stood precariously tipping on the board, looking down two stories to the splintered wood below. He could see the mouse resting on top, sighing in relief. His feet shook with the strength to keep him from falling, tipping and leaning towards the doorframe to make him slip. He closed his eyes for a second, before pushing off from the doorframe. He regained his balance, standing straight, yet the push caused the wood plank to rock. Patton quickly placed both hands steadily on the door frame on either side, waiting for the board to click into place. He delicately walked the rest of the way, almost bursting into tears at the solid ground beneath him. 

He didn’t have time for such pleasantries. He quickly got to work, using all his strength to smash the camera, sparks spewing out of it, the metal bent towards the wall. He walked through the cage door, approaching the fan. It seemed to spin acceleratedly upon his arrival. Patton didn’t dare place his hand inside, although the back of his brain slowly prodded him with the impulse. He pulled the pliers from his belt, carefully snipping the blue wire. The blades of the fan gave one last scornful spin, before falling limp. Patton didn’t have time to mourn them, snatching the car keys. He rushed his way back, an invisible fake timer counting down in his head. He hefted the board up, placing it back as best as he could. It slowly descended down after being placed, Patton racing to catch it. He grabbed the nails, one by one. His fingers stung at failed attempts, punishing the shaking muscles in his fingers for disobedience. When it was finally in place, he dived into the wood box at the end of the room, curling up inside. His hearing was muffled due to the wood encasing him, though he didn’t notice the sound. His brain screamed with invisible numbers counting down when the clock hit zero, everything was deathly silent. Not a single creak sounded in the house, no wind rattled. Nothing. Nothing happened. The exhaustion ate at his muscles who slumped in defeat, giving in. The defeat obliterated any thought Patton had at continuing for the night. He drifted off into his memories, unaware of the real world around him.

* * *

 

 

_ FINAL DAY _

Patton jumped, hitting his head hard on the wood above him. It made a low thunk, jumping up at his surprise, before returning to normal. Patton rubbed his head, looking up at the ceiling. He couldn’t remember much of his dream, it became all hazy as it slipped from his grip back into his subconscious. Those last words, though, stayed imprinted on his eyes. He stared, distantly recognizing the swirls of white particles that flew around his vision. When he was a kid, he’d used to lay in the grass, staring up at the shadows of the clouds, making them look pronounced. He’d sit there and feel the warm rays of sun and wind battle around his body, cooling and warming it up simultaneously. He would stare hard into the white, his vision would go blurry.

* * *

 

 

_ “Oh! Hello, there little guys!” Patton exclaimed, happy to see what looked like little bugs in the distance that he hadn’t noticed before. His eye attempted to focus on one swirling in the distance, but when he tried, they disappeared from view. He pouted childishly, staring hard, and once again, the flying objects came into view. Patton spent a long time, giggling as he would attempt to focus “catch” one with his eyes. He giggled, happy to have new friends to play a different kind of hide and seek with…  _

* * *

 

 

Patton sighed as they swirled in his vision. It hurt to stare too long at the small intricate grooves of the wood, but he craved that familiarity of childlike wonder whenever he saw his friends move in the air like particles of dust in water, twirling with the current. This was his only comfort it seemed. His hand tightened around something, which happened to be the car keys he snagged just earlier. Now that his half-waken brain saw something familiar, the events all came back. He just needed to get to the car, fill up the gas, and he’d be golden. His muscle ached, protesting loudly as he lifted himself up, still wary of the wood above him. The soreness in his back said otherwise. Patton painstakingly lifted the wood lid up, scanning outside. Everything was dark, as it had been before. Nothing seemed changed, except for the creaks downstairs. He was awake and walking around. Patton’s heart rate increased, knowing he had to get a move on if he desired to get out of this hellhole.

 

* * *

 

 

Patton smiled, lifting the rusted trunk, placing the keys in his pocket. As he had suspected, this car had its gas tank in the back of the trunk. He grabbed the gas can, slowly letting the gas trickle out and into the gas tank. He looked around as he waited, making sure the liquid didn’t come out too fast to splash or make sounds. His eyes caught on a dull glint coming from the bottom of the scraggy rug floor of the trunk. Patton set the hefty jug back upright, closing both before reaching in. His face contorted at the feel of the shabby carpet, but his fingers came in contact with a hard metal. He pulled it back,  examining it. It was yet another key, this time, engraved into the metal was: Weapons key. Patton examined it further, the name rings a bell in his brain. He snaps his finger in triumph, remembering a certain room that had a small wall locker> He jumped at the footsteps upstairs, all blood draining from his face. He dove for the locker, tearing it open and shoving himself inside. He got a glimpse of the man, looking around the garage before he slumped to the bottom of the locker, exhaustion of the constant terror weighing on him.

* * *

 

 

The lock made a soft click as he turned it. His hands were gentle as he opened it. He blinked a couple of times, processing what was in the little locker. It was a crossbow, with three tranq darts inside. He picked it up, making sure his finger was off the trigger.

_ Why would he have this?! _ Patton pondered as he pulled the string back, hearing it tick into place. He bounced it in his hand, gauging the weight of the object. Sweat slipped down his forehead as he thought. He closed his eyes, sighing.

* * *

 

 

Patton tipped the table over, the still broken vase shattering in even smaller pieces. He held the gun to his shoulder, looking down the sight to the door. He heard the footsteps creep ever so closer, sweat pouring down his face. His whole body shook with fear as he tried to convince himself that he was safe, he had a weapon after all. The door swung open, revealing the man, face to face. He was extremely cold, his electric eyes almost pinning Patton to the spot. His fear tried to paralyze him, but his instincts kept him steady.

“ I        f o **u** n     **d** **y** o   u~~” His smile was sharp, dangerous. Patton swallowed, the man not even flinching at the weapon pointed at him. He raised his bat, poised to swing. He took one shuffle forward, Patton’s finger seizing. The dart sprang from the bow, lodging itself into the man’s chest. He stumbled back a step, regaining his posture as he looked down at the dart. He looked at Patton with an emotionless face, before tipping towards him. Patton yelped, dropping the crossbow as he jumped back. The man hit the ground with a thud, blood trickling from his head from the impact. Patton spent no time, bounding down the stairs as fast as he could. His chest was whirling with multiple violent emotions, causing his adrenaline to skyrocket. He flung the door of the car open, his wobbling fingers fumbling with the keys. He shoved it into the ignition, turning it.

“ _ Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…”  _ He whispered in succession as the engine struggled to come to life. Patton screeched in victory as it roared, making a loud clunking sound. This car had better days, but it was his ticket out of there. He reversed, gripping the steering wheel as he hit the gas. He steadied himself as the car jolted after hitting the wall, cracking and shaking the house. Dust fell onto the car from the old floorboards above. He gave a shaky breath as he reversed again, the car jumping as it hit the stairs. He floored it, hitting the wall harder. The Cracks in the wall shifted, parts of the wall protruding out from it. He reversed one last time, sweat going down his brow as he hit the gas, not bothering with looking in the rearview mirror, his fear getting to him. He jolted as the stone gave way, the car jerking forward at the give. He pressed on the gas, laughing almost hysterically at the feeling of freedom, the sight of the moon and stars and trees. He was still jittery from the entire experience, but he choked out a sob as he watched the house fading from view. His eyes strained to see the grown-over path, watching in anticipation for the road he had been on. He flung his phone out, turning on the screen. The soft light illuminated the car with a gentle reassuring glow that gave Patton hope and strength. He was almost out… just a little further… 

* * *

 

 

Virgil paced his living room, his hands pressed in his messy hair. It had been five days… FIVE DAYS since his best friend had gone missing. He had already visited the police station within the first day of his disappearance, but only got a scoff from the police, telling him that he had nothing to worry about. Virgil knew his friend, though. He knew Patton would at  **least** give Virgil a call because he knew that Virgil would panic otherwise. Something was wrong.  **Terribly** wrong. And it scared Virgil to death to know his best friend was gone forever, or hurt somewhere. He had had enough. It was five days, and he needed help from the police now if he ever wanted to see Patton again. Virgil grabbed his jacket, shoving his arms through it as he grabbed his keys. He was done sitting around.

* * *

 

 

Virgil pushed the glass doors open, ignoring the buzzing of the entire police station. He arrived at the receptions desk, a young blonde lady smiled politely, her hands folded.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” Virgil swallowed, hating the social interaction. He swore to himself in his head as he stammered,

“Y-Yes… I… I am here to f-file an m-missing person report… His name is Patton Heart, h-he’s been missing for… five days n-now...” Virgil desperately wanted to clutch onto his hoodie strings and pull as tight as it would go. The receptionist smiled politely, about to scooch away towards a filing cabinet when a policeman leaned against the desk. Virgil felt cold sweat fall down his face as he recognized the face.

“Well, if it isn’t you again.” The policeman sneered, almost hissing like a snake. The receptionist gave him a disapproving look, one he ignored in favor of staring down Virgil.

“W-well, I-” 

“I told you, your friend is most likely fine.” He looked Virgil up and down, sizing his appearance.

“Based on you, he’s probably drunk, passed out in an alleyway so he doesn’t have to deal with you anymore.” Virgil felt fiery, not at the insult but at the blatant assuming of his best friend, that he would be that cruel. He felt his anger fester and grow, his body unfurling from itself. His usual slouch straightened, showing his true height. The man who had a couple of inches on Virgil, now a couple of inches too short. His smirk faltered, before strengthening, a dangerous glint in his eye. Before either could say or do anything, another happy, chirpy voice chimed in.

“If I could interrupt, I need to talk to our friend over there, Dee… “ 

“Dee” spun around to face the newcomer, a middle-aged policeman who wore a pink tie to go with. Virgil was a bit surprised he was allowed to wear such a thing, being a police officer, but just by his look, Virgil could tell he was a kind man, and probably friends with (almost) everyone in the police department.  _ Patton and he would probably get along… _ Virgil thought, bringing tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the edges of his hoodie as he looked away. He could hear “Dee” scoff, but Virgil didn’t care. He had a right to be worried about his best friend. Virgil startled when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Virgil looked up, seeing the gentle man smiling at him.

“Come on…” He said, gesturing towards a desk filled with cartoon figures and papers. He sat down, ignoring every other police officer, including Dee who passed by the desk with his arms crossed. The man sat across from him, smiling as he grabbed a notepad.

“It’s nice to meet you! The name is Emile, Emile Picani. Now… Do you how do?”

Virgil huffed, running his hands through his hair multiple times.

“I… not good. My best friend went missing days ago, and I am kinda freaking out right now!” Virgil spoke rapidly, still gripping onto his hair and pulling. Emile simply smiled gently, his soft voice soothing Virgil’s frayed nerves.

“It’s ok, when did he disappear?” Virgil took a deep breath.

“Five days ago. His name is Patton Heart. He was supposed to visit me days ago, but he never arrived. I tried calling, but he won’t answer…” Emile reached a hand towards him, patting his arm as Virgil’s eyes watered.

“Hey, it’s ok. We will find your friend. Where was he last you heard from him, or where what route was he taking? That might help us narrow down his location.”

“Down Berry road, I believe. I told him that he should have waited at the inn, but he insisted that he could drive a bit more so he could get to the house that night. He hasn’t answered since…” Virgil wanted to slap himself with how awkward he was being.  _ Of course, he knows he didn’t answer, you literally told him he was missing! _ Virgil was broken from his negative spiral when the same blonde receptionist darted to the desk, eyes wide and wild. Emile was about to stand up, ready to comfort her.

“Ava, what is-” Instead, “Ava” turned her eyes to Virgil, pinning him to the spot.

“It’s your friend. He called 9-1-1. They are on the phone with him right now.” Virgil’s eyes widened as he followed her back to the desk, Emile quickly gathering his things, calling some other police officers with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Patton shivered inside the junky car, clutching his phone close to his face. The car broke down, far too soon for Patton’s liking. The surrounding trees threatened him, mocking him of failure, chanting for his demise. Patton hated it. He hated everything about this. He was so close. He waited patiently as the lady from 911 patched his call into the police department, watching desperately out the window of the car. He didn’t know how effective that tranq dart was, but he hoped beyond all being that it would keep him unconscious long enough for Logan to be long gone. His panic increased as thoughts plagued him, dragging him down under the weight of fear and hopelessness. The phone in his hand shaking from his nerves, the only beacon of light in the sea of hysteria. His ears picked up every little sound, his head whipping to and fro at every snap of a branch, or whistle of the wind. He curled in on himself when he heard a click. He nearly burst into tears, laughing happily. A female voice chirped.

“Sanders Police Department, what’s your emergency?” Patton sniffled, rubbing his nose with the edge of the hoodie.

“Yes, Hi, m-my name is Patton Heart… I was just kidnapped.” Patton froze, unsure how to continue. He heard the lady on the other side gasp, fumbling a bit over the static. She barely got out a “hold on!” before the line went dead again. Patton deflated against his seat, his fingers drumming rapidly on his leg, as he continued to search outside. His hand gripped the phone tightly, to the point it was shaking not only because of his fear, but his force. He heard movement on the other side, gasping in relief once again. He heard a beep before the lady’s voice came through.

“Yes, hello Patton. I have your friend, Virgil here-” Patton jumped in shock, hitting his leg on the metal of the car. Tears streamed down his face as he held his mouth.

“I’ve got Emile Picani, he’s a police officer. We have you on speaker phone… mind telling us what happened to you?” Patton let out a happy sob, his eyes focused on one spot as he spoke.

“Yes, I… I was driving down Berry road when my tire popped… I think it might have been that man, I mean there is no way ten nails could be perfectly placed like that. Anyways, I saw a house nearby, and my phone was running out of service, so I walked towards it to see if anyone could maybe call a tow-truck, or let me stay the night. When I was super duper close to the house, I heard a twig snap. That is when the man knocked me out with a bat.” He paused, gasping for breath from his rant. 

“This man, is he the one that kidnapped you? Can you describe him?”

“Y-yes… He was tall, he had electric blue eyes… a blue striped tie… uh, a black polo… he was really pale…”

“Did you get his name?”

“No… I’ve kinda been referring to him as ‘the man’” Patton chuckled nervously, before continuing.

“I… I woke up in his house, the same house I was heading too. It was really run down, and I was locked in the room. I accidentally knocked over a vase and had to hide in the closet. He came in with the same bat, looking for me. Oh, also, the table in the room told me that I had five days… I really didn’t want to find out to what, so I continued. I spent a lot of time hiding, I was way to afraid to go out with him lurking. Eventually, though, I heard him starting to watch TV, so I decided to make my move… that was when…” Patton stuttered, rubbing his leg absentmindedly.

“That was when I accidentally step on a bear trap…”

* * *

 

 

Virgil gagged, having to grip hard on the desk, his head dizzy. Even the officers and receptionist had disgusted shock on their faces. Virgil had to clamp hands over his mouth as Patton continued the story, telling how he stitched his own wound, passed out, and found a note from a man named “Remy”. Virgil didn’t miss how Emile became rigid after the name, his teeth clench and the familiar symptoms of anxiety hitting him. Virgil was too absorbed in Patton right now to ask him what was going on.

He listened vigilantly as Patton continued, talking about how he saw the car and snuck around the house searching for tools to fix up the junker. He stuttered at finding a remote control.

* * *

 

 

Patton clutched Virgil’s hoodie closer to himself, gulping at the sudden dryness of his mouth.

“I… I found out that the remote control opens a lock on a door underneath the stairs… I… There was a dead body inside.” He heard everyone on the other side react, some in disgust, some in shock. He could hear Virgil’s shaky breathing. Patton pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, the same he found in the room. It suddenly clicked,

“You said an ‘Emile’ was there, right?” There was a beat of silence before a man spoke up, his voice shaking slightly.

“Yes? That is me, what-”

“I had a note from him… in the room. He said… that he couldn’t do it… and that he's sorry... and... goodbye.” He heard a choked sob on the other line before a broken “Remy?” came through. Patton looked down, sadness hitting him.

“Yes… I’m sorry…” Patton waited in bated silence before he heard someone clear their throat.

“Stay there, Patton. We are on our way.”

* * *

 

 

Virgil’s heart went out to the nice police officer, fumbling to catch up with him as did the rest of the police officers. He stopped at feeling someone grab his hand, placing an object into. He turned back, seeing the receptionist, Ava, smile at him kindly. He looked down at the object, seeing a phone.

“I transferred the call to my phone. Bring it back to me once you’ve saved your friend.” Virgil smiled thankfully, running to catch up with the rest of the officers. He barely jumped into Emile’s car before he raced out of the parking lot, racing towards the road. Virgil held onto his seat, looking out the windshield. He jumped, hearing a sniff come through the phone, realizing Patton was still on the phone. He gingerly placed it on speaker phone, speaking gently.

“Pat..?” He heard a yelp of surprise, broken off sobs. His own tears streamed down his face as he heard a faint,

“Virge?” He smiled, relieved at being able to talk with his best friend.

“We’re coming, Patton, we are coming.” He heard some more sniffles, Patton chuckling.

“Please hurry. I don’t know if he’s coming.” 

“What happened after you found…” Emile’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, before sighing.

“What happened after?”

“I was able to find all I needed, but before I found a key to weapon storage… I found a crossbow with a tranq dart… so, I tranqed him.” Virgil couldn’t help snorting, smiling in pride.

“That’s my Patton!” He heard a chuckle on the other line.

“After he passed out, I escaped in the car… but it broke down not too far from the house… I don’t know how long he will be out…” There was silence for a few beats.

Virgil jolted at the sound of glass shattering over the phone, his blood turned icy cold as Patton screamed.

* * *

 

 

Patton whimpered and cried out as the man forcefully grabbed his hair through the car, dragging him out of the driver's seat through the window. Patton could feel the remaining glass shards dig into his hoodie, some able to pierce his skin. He grabbed frantically at the hand dragging him, screaming and pulling to pry the man’s hands off. The man barely reacted, still swinging his bat as he pulled Patton along, toward the house. Patton squirmed and cried, trying desperately to slow the man down as his feet push against the earth. His feet slipped, bringing up tufts of grass and dirt in his struggle. He screamed for help, for anyone to hear him and save him. His entire body shook with the force of his sobs, his scalp burning from the drag. His eyes were blurred by tears, the jerky movements vibrated through Patton, the man’s shaky, labored breathing filling his ears.

His eyes darkened, his own breathing coming too fast and too shallow. He almost accepted the darkness, at least it would save him from experiencing his own death. Before slipping completely, he saw flashing blue and red lights. 

* * *

 

 

Emile hit the brakes, hard. He shoved the car in park, before flinging himself out of the car. Virgil sat, petrified at the sight in front of him. The man, as Patton pegged him, was walking away, stumbling with stiff knees away from the rusty red car. In his clutches, was Patton’s body, limp. His eyes were fluttering, before shutting completely, his hair in the grasp of that monster. He barely registered his own old hoodie on Patton when Emile drew his gun, along with the other two officers.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to release that man.” The man didn’t even react, acting as if he didn’t hear him. He continued his way, still swinging his bat back and forth with his slow steps. Emile felt the sweat run down his face, his insides boiling with rage and hurt, finally knowing what happened to his brother after so long. This man had murdered him… and Emile would make sure he wouldn’t murder another.

“Sir, put him down!” Emile shouted, his gun thrusting forward at the man as he shouted. The man finally stopped. His breathing still heavy. He slowly hobbled to face them, his eyes glossy, and face expressionless. The three police officers looked at each other, before one holstered their weapon, raising a hand towards the man.

“Sir, we just want to help...” They continued to step closer, arm out in a placating manner. Still, the man didn’t move. His face stared at them, soulless. Within a half of the second, he swung the bat, nailing the officer in the face. They immediately crumpled to the floor. The other officer screamed, kneeling next to the officer, tears streaming down their face. Emile’s eyes hardened, his gun pointed straight at the man

“Officer down! Repeat, officer down!” The other police officer screamed into his radio, before starting to pull the officer away from the man. Emile stood in front of them, his gun still drawn. The man still stared blankly, taking slow, scraping steps towards him. 

“Sir, don’t come any closer, or I will shoot.” Sweat ran down his face, his hands starting to shake. The man got ever closer, his emotionless face scrunching up a little as he swung his bat. Emile’s gun went flying out of his hands. He immediately started to rub his hands together, barely realizing the bat swinging towards him. He lifted his arm up just in time, the wood whacking his arm harshly. He winced but pushed against it. The man looked to be barely using his strength, pushing the bat towards Emile. Emile valiantly tried to stay his ground, but the pressure from the man brought him to his knees. Within a second, the man drew back his bat, ready to swing again. Emile closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.

* * *

 

 

Patton groaned softly, feeling regaining in his entire body. He took deep breaths, his eyes were unwilling to open. He groaned in pain, his body ached terribly. His leg burned hot, his skin itched, his scalp still stinging from the pulling. He jolted up, terrified as the memories poured into his mind. His eyes danced around the room, desperately trying to figure out what happened.  _ Am I in the house again? Am I dead? _ His eyes finally focused on the lit up room, gentle light floating in, twirling through the curtains and exposing particles of dust that dance in the spotlight. The room was white, the smell of antiseptics filling his nose. He looked around before his eyes landed on his best friend. He nearly choked on spit at the sight. He was safe. He was with his best friend. All was good.

* * *

 

 

Welcome to the 6 O’clock news, I am your host, A drian Michael. Today’s top story, resident Virgil Storm accompanied 3 police officers today to the site of one Patton Heart. He had called 911, stating that he had been kidnapped, escaped, and then stuck near the house he was held. When they got on site, the man in question, Logan Berry, was dragging Patton Heart towards the house. Police officer Talyn, attempted to dissuade him and was knocked out. Logan Berry was about to take down officer Emile Picani, when Virgil Storm shot him in self-defense. According to police, Logan Berry had been kidnapping multiple people and murdering them in his own home. The remains have been recovered and given proper burials. Meanwhile, Patton Heart has been admitted to the hospital for multiple injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Happy ending! 
> 
> I am so happy for my boi, and proud of Virgil!  
> If you didn't catch it, When Logan was about to knock Emile out, Virgil grabbed Emile's gun and shot Logan. Unfortunately, he did not make it... but that's ok, I guess. I mean, he killed Remy, knocked out Talyn, injured Patton.
> 
> I had a blast being detailed and creative doing this, and now that is one less fanfic I have to deal with, so I can finally focus on "Not as Bad as I Seem", thank goodness!


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